Prayer
by Elessar King
Summary: With wounded, the knights take refuge in a monestary. nonslash.
1. Part 1

I first got the idea for this after listening to the Kingdom of Heaven soundtrack, especially Burning the Past and Path to Heaven. It's very beautiful, like the movie. Anyway, so I wrote this. Each chapter is a bit short though, it was originally only meant to be two or three parts, but oh well. Enjoy.

Prayer

Part 1

It had been dark when they first arrived so it wasn't until morning that Lancelot was able to get a good look at the monastery. They had to find a place to rest and recover from the latest encounter with the Woads on their journey deep, south of the Wall. It would be too long of a ride for the wounded to head all the way back now. This was the closest place.

In the morning, Lance was woken by the faint sound of singing. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, realizing that he must have fallen asleep on the bed next to Arthur last night when the Roman was saying he was cold. The younger knight sighed, looking down at his commander's still slightly pale face. Lancelot personally hadn't seen it happen, but Arthur broke his leg on the field. They had done the best they could, but between him and Gawain, they really needed something better than sleeping out in the cold woods.

He stood up and stretched, still half listening to the singing voices somewhere down the hall. The room they were in was quite bare, but the bed was warm and there was a nice fire in the fire place and at the moment, that's all they needed. Except maybe some food, but that could be dealt with when Arthur woke up.

Lance hesitated on leaving Arthur by himself here, knowing that the man might try to get up if no one was here, but he wanted to look around a little first. Quietly, he edged the door open and stepped outside. There was a square courtyard, with all of the doors inwardly faced. He had remembered this from last night when the men in dark robes had made him wait outside while they saw to Arthur. It was raining too, and the singing wasn't as loud, it almost seemed drowned out by the rain.

Across the yard, he could see Galahad sitting outside of one of the doors, one which he assumed must be where Gawain was. The blond knight had been injured quite badly - shot with two arrows. The youngest looked asleep under the overhang of the roof of the rooms in the courtyard. The center of it was open with a patch of grass and one tree in the middle. Lancelot looked around again; there was a passage straight to his left.

It led down through another covered hallway with pillars on the edge of the path. On each side were two fields, but it was also enclosed by a building with many windows. There were many more trees here. In fact, they weren't just fields, but graveyards; each marked with a wooden cross. Lance continued down the hall, the singing was getting louder. At the end were a pair of heavy wooden doors. This is where the singing was coming from. Hesitantly, he opened one door and slipped inside.

He had been to the small chapel at the fort once, while looking for Arthur, but this was nothing compared to that. It was huge, the ceiling seemed to stretch forever. There were large indents in the walls that reminded him of caves, each of them with candles and a statue. There was a large cross at the front with candles surrounding it. The men in robes - what had Arthur told him they were..monks was it? Yes, that was it. The men in robes stood on the main floor in front of him, almost looking like they were in formation like a military unit. Their voices were hauntingly beautiful.

There was a man in a different colour robe standing in front of them on top of a few steps leading up to the place where all of the candles were at the head. For a brief moment, he looked up and locked eyes with the knight. His gaze was welcoming, as if asking Lancelot to stay. But he couldn't, and quickly retreated out and back down the covered path to Arthur's room.


	2. Part 2

Part 2

Galahad woke with a start when he heard a door close across the courtyard. Much like Lancelot who had fallen asleep while looking after their commander, Galahad had fallen asleep outside Gawain's room. He stood up and stretched his sore muscles before quietly entering the dark room. No candles burned, the window was covered, and the only thing giving light was the fire dancing in the fireplace. The flames and shadow made Gawain appear all the more pale and unhealthy looking. Galahad sighed, sitting on the bed next to him.

White bandages held the dressings in place that the monk physicians had put on the night before. His skin felt slightly warm to the touch, fever was already setting in. With a sigh, Galahad took the cloth on the table and dipped it in the bowl of water there and started to try to cool down his friend.

A soft and gentle sound reached his ears; it was singing. Galahad paused in his motions for a moment to listen. The singing was comforting, almost like the rain falling outside. It seemed like peace, that there was no danger or violence or anything that they were used to. It seemed almost too good to be true.

There was a quiet knock on the door and Dagonet came in with a bowl of broth and some meat and bread. He smiled a little at the youngest knight, "Good morning, breakfast has arrived."

"Thank you Dag," Galahad said, accepting the food from him and putting it on the table for now.

Dag stayed for a moment, gazing at Gawain laying in bed. "How is he?"

"Getting feverish," Galahad replied with a sigh, "Will you send for those monks again, maybe they can help." The large knight nodded and started to leave, but Galahad looked up at him, "How is Arthur?"

"He hasn't woken up yet, but I brought him and Lancelot breakfast too. Soon probably, he's never late for anything that has food involved, even if he is wounded."

Galahad smiled; it was true. "Thank you Dag," he said again before the man left, then went back to cooling Gawain. After a few moments, he decided to try to wake him. It took some doing before Gawain's blue eyes finally opened.

He squinted a little, even in the darkness of the room, "Galahad? Is that-...singing?"

The other smiled a little and nodded, "Yes, it is."


	3. Part 3

Well, here's the next chapter. It's short again, they all are, because originally this was supposed to be shorter than it turned out. But I like it divided into small segments the way it is. It's all ready entirely written so like I've been doing, there will be one chapter a day. So, here's the next one :D

Part 3

It rained for three weeks, and every morning Lancelot woke up to the soft sounds of the singing coming from the sanctuary down the covered path. It reminded him that there was peace here, but it also seemed haunting as well as beautiful. He had stayed in the room, leaving any further exploration to the others.

During the second week, the wound on Arthur's leg had become infected. He was feverish and at times delirious. The news Lance had received from Tristan concerning Gawain is that the other knight was not faring well either. The monks had been doing the best they could to help as well, and finally Arthur seemed to be getting better.

Lance sat on the edge of the bed next to him, looking out of the window next to him at the soggy landscape and listening to the singing voices again. There was something about it, he hadn't grown tired of hearing it yet. A soft voice broke his thoughts, "Lancelot?"

The knight smiled, looking down at his friend's tired grey eyes, "Good morning, feeling better?"

Arthur nodded slightly, "Are you listening to them?" Lance also nodded in return. "They sound like angels," the Roman said softly, closing his eyes again for a moment.

"Uh huh.." Lance said and furrowed his brow slightly, "That doesn't mean that you can go up to your heaven any time soon though just because you hear angels."

Arthur smiled, laughing weakly, "I'm not going anywhere."

With a sigh, the knight turned his brown eyes again to the window. "Do you know what they're saying?" he asked after a moment.

There wasn't a reply for a time and Lancelot thought that perhaps Arthur had gone back to sleep. "It is a song of thanks to God," Arthur said at last, then paused again, "And now they ask for healing..for us."

"They're praying for you?"

"Us, Lance, all of us."

He looked back at Arthur again, "Why are they praying for us, we don't believe this. They shouldn't have even let us stay here, we don't belong."

"Why is that a reason not to pray for you?" Arthur asked softly, "Christ taught to love thy neighbor, that means everyone. So they pray for all of us." When he was finished speaking, he winced slightly and closed his eyes.

Lance stood up and walked around to the other side of the bed. "I thought I told you not to get wounded again," he said in a light tone after he pulled back the blankets to change the bandages on Arthur's leg.

"No, that's what I told you," the Roman smirked, then promptly flinched when his leg was moved.

"So maybe I got the order wrong, but one of us was not supposed get wounded," Lance replied, using a method that Arthur had often employed for him, and distracted the other man's mind from the pain as he gently put the herb paste the healer had left on the leg before wrapping it again. "There, all done now, you can stop biting a hole in your lip."

"Very funny, how about we do this to you next time."

"No thanks, I like having my legs work," the knight replied and sat down on the bed again, "You should go back to sleep." When there was no protest before Arthur went back to sleep, it left Lancelot slightly worried, but he knew that this probably would be the best place for him to heal now. It would be all right.


	4. Part 4

Here's the next part, sorry it's kind of short. Enjoy.

Part 4

"We should be home, not out here. He would be doing better if we were home," Galahad said softly with a sigh, running a hand through his curly hair.

"He wouldn't have survived the trip," Tristan said evenly as he again saw to Gawain's wounds again, "Arthur's leg wouldn't have either." Twice a day he had been coming in, sometimes accompanied by one of the monk healers, but most of the time alone. There hadn't been a huge improvement by any means and it almost seemed that nothing they did helped.

Galahad stood up again, his bare feet making no noise on the stone floor as he paced. He hadn't left - he refused to leave. Not now at least, not when Gawain needed him. Or was it he that needed Gawain? "What about now, can't you get him strong enough to move now?"

The scout briefly glanced up at the younger knight pacing, "We're doing the best that we can Galahad, that's all we can do. He has to do the rest." As Tristan got up again, Galahad sighed and nodded. "See if you can get him to drink this when he wakes up," Tristan ordered before he left.

Sitting down on the bed, the youngest knight watched his friend sleep. It was quiet again and would be until that evening when there was singing that floated down the halls. But now, Galahad didn't care about singing or monks or exploring right now. He just wanted Gawain to wake up and for him to get better. Somewhere in the back of his mind, something told him that would never happen.

"No," he said aloud, to himself, "Of course Gawain will be fine."

"You're right, of course I will," Gawain said weakly before opening his eyes a little.

Galahad smiled in relief, "Would you quit scaring me to death like that? It's not funny anymore."

"Sorry," he murmured with a small smiled and then closed his eyes again, "I miss the singing now."

"I know.." Galahad said softly and then reached for the cup that Tristan had left on the table, "Here, drink this, it will help you feel better."

"Galahad?"

"Yes?"

"When I'm better, will you go with me to see the rest of this place?" Gawain questioned once his friend had helped him drink the liquid in the cup.

The younger smiled again, "Of course I will. Now rest, Gawain, so that you do get better."

Gawain also smiled, "Good...since I know you haven't left the room since we got here."

Galahad rolled his eyes and let the wounded man go to sleep again, staying next to him, standing guard.


	5. Part 5

I apologize, I meant to post this earlier today, but we went to see Cinderella Man (which was really really good). Anyway, only two more parts to go after this. I appreciate all the reviews, thank you very much.

Part 5

The storm was over, but the rain never stopped. Arthur stared up at the ceiling, watching the rain fall down on his face. He closed his eyes again; the vast space of the grey clouds above was making him dizzy. The rain felt good. It was cool and he was freezing, but it felt good.

Music reached his ears again. It sounded sad, like a funeral. When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the monastery, but somewhere else - somewhere familiar. Tears began to form in his grey eyes and mixed with the rain water on his face. "Mother...no, come back," he whispered.

Lancelot sighed, "Arthur, it's all right." He dipped the cloth in the bowl of water on the table and wiped some of the sweat off of the commander's brow, trying to cool down his raging fever. When they thought he was getting better, he suddenly got worse. Gawain did too. The monks had tried every method of healing known to them but now they could only pray. Tristan kept trying, but slowly he was starting to lose hope as well.

"No! Mother!" Arthur cried, suddenly sitting up in bed before Lance caught him. He struggled against his friend as much as he could, reaching out with one arm as the tears flowed down his face.

"Arthur stop! Listen to me, listen to my voice," the knight said, still trying to hold him back. He could feel the heat radiating off of the Roman's skin; it made Lance's heart sink. He had made a promise not to give up...but now, it was so hard to find hope. Arthur's strength was being used up quickly every day as his body fought the fever, and the dreams and delusions brought on by it didn't allow him to sleep and regain his strength either.

After a few more moments of struggle, tears and crying out in a language Lance didn't understand, Arthur slowed down and sagged in his friend's arms, exhausted. He rested his head against the knight's shoulder. "Come back.." he whispered to the images of the past in his mind. Then Arthur looked up a little, meeting the concerned brown eyes of his friend. "Lancelot?"

Lance forced a smile to his lips through the glassy tears starting to well up in his eyes, "Yes, I'm here. It's all right now. Rest, Arthur."

The Roman shivered and found his eyes growing heavy, struggling to stay awake a little longer. It felt like he was falling again as Lance gently lowered him back on the bed again. Arthur closed his eyes with a sigh. The rain fell down on his face and dripped down his cheeks. He could taste it on his lips. "Why is it still raining?" he asked softly.

Shaking his head, Lancelot continued to cool down Arthur's face as he replied, "It's not raining, not anymore. Go to sleep."

"I can feel it raining," the other whispered before sleep took him once more.

Lance sighed. "It's your fever, not rain," he whispered even though he knew Arthur wasn't listening. Squeezing his eyes shut, he was glad that none of the others were there to see him cry again. Not even the singing that Arthur had told him were prayers took away his fear. If anything, it made it worse.

* * *

Galahad looked up suddenly when he heard yelling across the square. He knew who it was; Arthur's fever and delirium had gone on for over a week. In fact, Galahad wasn't sure how long they had been there anymore. Time didn't seem to exist the way that it should as he sat in the chair next to Gawain's bed, faithfully holding his best friend's hand. 

Unlike Arthur, Gawain stayed quiet mostly. Occasionally he stirred or murmured something, but he never woke. It scared the young knight, he had watched others of their company die the same way. And he feared that the same fate may be before him now.

There was nothing to help him, nothing to pull him out of the despair of the possibility of loosing his friend. Even this place which had held a peaceful air had become haunting and ominous. Or perhaps it was just the music.


	6. Part 6

I meant to post this yesterday but somehow got distracted. Sorry, heh. It's also really short…sorry for that too. Next chapter will be the last and then hopefully I'll be able to post more on one of my other stories. I'm glad to hear that many of you enjoyed this, I liked writing it back when I did. I had some vivid images of some of the churches and ruins we visited while we were in England. But anyway, without any further distraction, here is this part:

Part 6

"Galahad, slow down, I need to rest a moment," Gawain said as they slowly made their way down the covered path that Lancelot had explored several weeks before.

The younger knight quickly looked to his friend and guided him to a stone bench beside the path. "Are you all right?" he asked concernedly after helping Gawain sit down.

Galahad was actually surprised to hear Gawain laugh softly - it had been so long since he had heard that sound. "Yes, Galahad," he replied, "I'm fine, just a little tired." He looked around for a moment, finally getting his first look of the place they had been staying at.

With a sigh, Galahad sat down next to his friend. He hadn't gotten to see anymore of the monestary either, and even now, when Gawain was much stronger than he had been, his attention was more focused on the other knight's health rather than the doors of the sanctuary before them. It had been and would be a long road to healing, but now both of them were ready to go back to the fort where they could rest better. Actually, Galahad questioned that now. This was a good place to rest, it was peaceful, at least now.

A few moments later they watched the monks in their robes walk down the covered path and through the wooden doors. Gawain watched intently; they didn't seem to notice him though, or if they did, they made no acknowledgement. It was fine with him, he was content just watching. After a few moments, when they had all passed, there was singing. Gawain smiled, "It sounds better from here."

Galahad nodded in agreement, but said nothing. After a moment, Gawain looked over at him and started to stand up, "Let's go inside."

"Are you sure we should?" Galahad asked, helping him.

"Only for a moment, just to look," Gawain replied and slowly made his way to the heavy doors. They opened onto the large sanctuary. The blond knight smiled, though the church was not a part of his people, it still amazed him and he would never forget it. Even Galahad was impressed.

They went back outside and sat on the bench again, listening to the music. Sometime later, Gawain felt a soft weight on his shoulder. He smiled. It was the first good rest Galahad had gotten in a few weeks and his friend wrapped one arm around the youngest knight's shoulders, holding him there as he slept, and they both listened to the singing, even in their hearts when it was long over.


	7. Part 7

Here's the last part. Originally when this story was supposed to be much shorter, this was going to be chapter two, but I got more bunnies for the other chapters and it kept going. But this is my favourite, and this is the original image I had in my head the whole time writing it. Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, I hope you liked reading it as much as I did writing it.

Part 7

Lancelot stood near the doors, watching as Arthur painfully lowered himself on his knees and leaned on the rail at the front of the sanctuary. The Roman placed elbows on the rail and rested his forehead on his folded hands. It was a position Lance had seen a few times before when Arthur prayed; sometimes when he went looking for him and found him in the small chapel they had at the fort. But the chapel was nothing compared to the monastery.

As he continued to watch, he noticed Arthur's shoulders starting to shake. It was quiet; he couldn't even hear Arthur whispering anymore. In the silence, this place took on a different quality. For a few moments, Lance felt that he didn't belong here. This was not his place.

The entire time that they had been staying here, there had been this eerie feeling of peace, almost as if it was a dream. While there was no danger of the peace being taken away...that in itself almost seemed to add to the uneasiness. Now he felt it again.

Slowly, Arthur pushed himself up to his feet again and turned to limp down the isle, with no surprise on his face at seeing Lance standing there before the doors. "We should leave if you're ready," Lance said with a sigh.

With a sigh, Arthur nodded. His grey eyes looked around the church, taking in the details. It had only been his second or third time in the church sanctuary, but Lance could see the light in the man's eyes. As he helped the wounded man out, Lance could recall teasing Arthur some about his religion. Now at least, he knew not to do it now.

They passed by Gawain and Galahad, asleep on each other's shoulders, sitting on a bench next to the covered path. "We'll leave tomorrow morning, that should be enough time for Gawain," Arthur said once they got to the small courtyard where their rooms were.

"That's fine with me, I'm just anxious to get back to the fort, we've been gone a long time," Lance replied.

Arthur smirked a little, "Why is that, are you missing the barmaids again?"

The Sarmatian rolled his eyes and playfully hit his friend's shoulder, "Very funny." He stayed outside as Arthur went back to his room to take the weight off of his leg again for awhile. Lance leaned against the wall, looking out to the single tree in the middle of the square. The peace would be gone tomorrow as soon as they left, but it would never leave his memory. A memory of the hauntingly beautiful singing and an image of Arthur kneeling in prayer would stay with him always, until his dying day.

_finis_


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